Scarlet Fire, Ebony Flame, and Ivory Ash
by SheWhoMustn'tBe
Summary: King Arthur Parody Kind of. Harry goes through his life, unknowingly to face his destiny, and to become the savior of the wizarding world. Then, he is thrown back, hundreds of years into the past. Nothing would ever be the same.
1. Prologue

Prologue:  
  
James smiled down at the small infant, the small emerald green eyes smiled up in return.  
In an instant, everything was changed. James, upon sudden instinct, looked out his window into the dark cool night, where a figure was walking, closer, closer to the house. James' eyes widened.  
"Lily!" he screamed, she ran in from the kitchen, eyes matching the baby's, emerald green, and filled with fear at the yelling of the black haired man. "Lily! Take Harry and run! He's here! I'll hold him off!"  
Lily grabbed the child and ran up the red carpeted stairs, she heard the door open, and ran faster. Locking herself and the child in his room, she looked around, and realized her mistake. There was no window, no means of escape. She couldn't apparate, not with the baby, not with Harry. She was crying, frantically searching the room, unable to leave because of the slow, confidant footsteps that were getting louder. "How could you, Peter?" she asked to no one in particular. Harry screamed as the door flew off its hinges, and she clutched him to her chest.  
"Give me the boy." Hissed the large figure, covered in a black robe, "Get out of the way girl, give me the boy!"  
"NO!" she cried, hysterically, "Take me! Take me instead!"  
"Stand aside, silly girl! Stand aside!"  
"No! Mercy! Please, take me instead!"  
"AVADA KADAVERA!"  
  
Sirius explored through the rummage that had once been a cheery home. His blue eyes were filled with grief and tears, his hair was thin and muddy instead of black, from which he had pulled at his hair, searched through the mud for nothing in particular, and pulled his hair again.  
Cries, it was a wonderful sound, the sound of life from a small infant, scared out of his wits, but alive.  
Sirius ran through the rubble, searching. There was no sign of Lily or James' bodies, but, there, in the middle of the rubble, was a small baby, green eyes filled with tears, and blood pouring from a thin scar on his head. Sirius couldn't move, he was too shocked. At last, he picked up the child, and turned, coming face to face with one Rubeus Hagrid.  
"Hagrid!" he cried, startled, "Hagrid! He's alive, Harry's alive! Voldemort's gone!"  
The half giant flinched at the name, "Give 'im to me, Dumbledore's orders, 'and 'im to me, now." Sirius was beside himself.  
"Hand him to you!" he shrieked, "No, I'll go to Dumbledore tomorrow, he's my godson." Harry's screaming continued.  
"It's Dumbledore's orders," said Hagrid roughly, "Need to take 'im to 'is relatives."  
"Fine...Take my motorcycle...I won't be needing it any more." Said Sirius, finally coming to terms with the fact that half the wizarding world was sure that it was he whom had been Lily and James Potter's secret keeper.  
"How could you Peter?" he asked, as Hagrid flew away, unaware that Lily had asked that same question, just hours before. Unaware that in a few hours time he would be captured by aurors, unaware that he was doomed to spend the next twelve years in Azkaban Prison. The era of the Marauders was over, and that too, was only just a beginning thought in the man's mind.  
  
Nothing would ever be the same.  
  
WoW  
  
AN: R+R please. I love reviews! 


	2. Ch 1 If there be Thorns

Warning: This chapter contains some mild language and mentions of child abuse and rape.  
  
Ch. 1 If there be Thorns  
  
Young. That was the correct term for the man whom sat before the Wizengamot court Saturday July 31. He fidgeted in his chair, nervous and scared to say the least. His green eyes showed worry and despair, and his black hair was unruly and staticy. His eyes darted from face to face of those attending his trial.  
  
Harry Potter had never felt more despairing in his life. He looked to the blue eyes of the black dog, to the gold eyes of the man next to the dog. He looked to the red-headed Weasleys, to his wizened headmaster, looking for some form of comfort or friendliness. A year ago, he would not have been able to believe that such eyes would look at him with such cruelty and coldness. He looked to his oldest friend, Hagrid, whom had saved him from the Dursleys, even his eyes were distant and hard. One would think that Harry Potter had betrayed these people.  
  
Indeed, each one felt very much betrayed. To say they were surprised when they learned that Severus Snape had seen the 15-year-old boy at a Deatheater meeting was an understatement. But to actually see the mark burned upon his shoulder was enough to make even the hard hearted faint. This was Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, enemy of Voldemort, but, according to deatheaters, spies and alike, he was also his best ally.  
  
"What is your name?" snapped the sharp, cruel and slightly joyous voice of Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.  
"Harry Potter," he answered, his voice thick as an effect of Veritiserum, the truth potion.  
"Do you know why you are here?"  
"Yes."  
"Then tell me."  
"I've been accused of being sighted at a deatheater meeting, as well as killing my uncle."  
"And are you guilty of these charges?"  
"Yes." There was a gasp throughout the crowd. "And no."  
"What do you mean?" asked Fudge, intrigued.  
"I am guilty, and I am not guilty."  
Fudge growled in annoyance. The boy was not making this easy. "Are you guilty of working for he-who-must-not-be-named?"  
"No."  
"Are you guilty of murdering you-"Dumbledore stood up.  
"Do you mind if I question him?" he asked, Fudge was shocked.  
"No more than I would if I did, good sir, if you can make him tell truth."  
"Harry Potter, are you guilty of working or conspiring with or for the Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort?" several people gasped at the mention of the name of the most feared dark lord of all times.  
"Yes." Another general gasp and murmur.  
"And are you guilty of murdering your uncle, Mr. Vernon Dursley, husband of Mrs. Petunia Dursley, who is your aunt and the sister of your mother."  
"Yes."  
"How could you!" cried Hermione, unable to hold back her tears or pain any longer.  
"Miss Granger, please calm down. You will have plenty of chance to talk to him before he is escorted to Azkaban Prison."  
Harry gasped, his eyes widening, "NO! I didn't! I swear! Please, I swear I didn't do it! I DIDN'T KILL HIM! I'M NOT A DEATHEATER! I SWEAR IT! By the grave of my parents, who were murdered by the very man you accuse me of helping; I swear I did not do it! I did not lay a finger against Vernon Dursley!"  
"THAT'S A LIE!" shouted the youngest red-haired boy in the room, Ron Weasley, "You just confessed! I WAS THERE! I SAW YOU KILL HIM! SNAPE SAW YOU AT THAT MEETING! You FUCKING BASTARD!"  
He allowed himself to pulled down by his parents, still shaking with rage. "You fucking bastard." He whispered. Harry was still staring at him when Cornelius Fudge declared the verdict, still looking at him when the dementors came and took him away, still staring at him even as the memories of everything flooded his head.  
  
' Lying on the bed, nothing in the room, everything's quiet. Footsteps come up the stairs, the door opens, and Vernon enters the room with a belt. Five-year-old Harry huddles in the corner of his bed, shivering and looking up in fear at the overwhelming sight, the belt slaps across his face, but mother-nature is not kind enough to let him black out. '  
  
' He's eleven now, just back from Hogwarts. His wand's out of reach and the man knows it. '  
  
' "Kill the spare!" Cedric's blank eyes stare at him, secretly blaming him for this fate that Harry must bring to all he loves. '  
  
' Dudley is in his room, a small smile on his face. He's been drinking with his friends, and probably never will remember what has happened. But Harry does, 'You'll always remember.' Dudley rips at the young teen's clothes, and Harry is too worn to fight. He feels a pain between his legs, and the agonizing weight of his overlarge cousin crashes into him, again and again and again and... '  
  
' "YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" '  
  
' "...Harry Potter, guilty of all charges, and sentenced to life in Azkaban prison." '  
  
"How could you Harry?" The voice of Sirius Black brought Harry to the present, and he was startled to realize that he was in a small cell, about the size of a bathroom. It had a curtain in one corner, which Harry suspected there was some kind of sad attempt at a toilet behind it. On the door of the cell across from him, he read the words: 'Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate', and shuddered.  
  
Harry looked up at his godfather, and behind him, where Remus stood, white and shaken, hurt. Harry said nothing, but looked beyond him into the cell he had read the words on. What did they mean? What language was it? 'Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate', it had to mean something dark and despairing. He whispered the words, trying how they sounded on his inexperienced tongue. Remus looked at him, and answered shakily, "Abandon every hope, you who enter."  
  
Harry faced the yelling, the crying, rages and tears without as much as a blink at each person. Every time someone entered the cell, he would repeat the dreaded sentence, and show no other sign but ragged breathing that life resided in his small crumpled body.  
  
Nothing would ever be the same.  
  
WoW  
  
AN: This story does have a plot, I swear. I know the chapters are a bit short, but that will change, soon as the rising action starts to...well, rise. R+R! 


End file.
